Louis: “(Y/n),” your mom cheered the second the door opened attacking you in one of her hugs you missed so much. “Hi mom,” you giggled burying your head in the crook of her neck. It had been a long time since you were able to see here since you and Louis were trying to spend as much time as possible together. “This must be the Louis you are always talking about,” your dad chimed in forcing his way out of the door, making a point to properly shake his hand. “Yes sir, nice to meet you,” Louis said much more monotone than you were used to. “You seem nervous,” your dad pointed out probably noticing the somewhat weird behavior. “No, it has just been a long flight and especially after back to back shows, I’m just tired,” he assured him. “Fair enough, but you two don’t have to stand out here, come in,” your father led the way himself. “Would you like to take a nap,” your mother offered. “Supper will not be done for about an hour,” she looked to the clock. “No, I think I’ll stay out here and watch the game with Mr. (y/l/n).” He noticed that your dad had it on. It wasn’t the futbol he was used to, but he probably wanted to make a good impression. “You can call me (y/d/n),” your father corrected, warming up at the talk of sports. Louis just nodded weekly and sat down quickly. “I’ll be right in,” you assured your mother realizing his complexion was a few shades lighter than you were used to. She nodded and headed to the kitchen. Your father plopped in the chair next to where Louis was sitting on the couch. You joined your boyfriend. “What’s wrong,” you whispered knowing he was not his charming self. “I just have a little headache, I’m fine,” he assured you grabbing your hand to be clear. “You can take a nap,” you suggested knowing his exhaustion could not be helping. “No, I need to talk to your dad about some stuff,” he was persistent. “Fine, I’ll get you some medicine,” you gave in going to drawer where your parents stored it.
Harry: “I’m going to go check on Harry,” you informed your parents. “Of course,” your mom obliged very politely as you walked to your old room. You were amused when you saw Harry snuggled into your flower sheets. He was motionless and his hair was the only thing peeking out from under the sheets. “How are you doing,” you asked sitting down next to him and rubbing his arm. “Not so good,” he groaned and weakly turned to look at you. “Apologize to your parents for me,” he pleaded clearly concerned. “Nothing I say will make them feel better, you hurled right after you ate their meal that they spent hours preparing,” you joked, but his eyes grew concerned. “Let them know I was feeling down since we landed and that…” “I was kidding,” you interrupted as you lied down next to him so you could have a heart to heart. “They love you,” you assured him brushing some of his damp hair out of his face. His forehead was burning up, “almost as much as I do,” you added thinking about how well he got on with all of your family members and how easy it would be to make him a part of it. You rested your hand on his neck and gave him a quick peck, willing to risk your health. He was too miserable to scold the chancy move. “You want anything,” you asked as he began nuzzling into your neck. He shook his head not having the energy to say it. “I should get back,” you reluctantly admitted after a bit. “No stay, talk to me,” he took all of the power he had left to trap you in his arms. “Get some rest,” you instructed as you kissed his sweaty forehead and got up to get back to family game night. He groaned, but with his current health, he had no power to get you to stay.
Zayn: All the men were playing poker, including Zayn, as you and the other gals were at the other table. This was the first time that Zayn had met your family, so you were trying to ignore the shit they continued to dish out. Of course they were only saying good things, but you were not interested in the extra attention. Out of nowhere Zayn sprinted out of the room. “Told you he was bluffing,” your father joked to try and lighten the mood and the other men joined in on the teasing. “I’m going to go see what’s up,” you left the room too quickly to see anyone else’s reaction. When you found Zayn he was kneeling in the hallway over his vomit. “I’m sorry, I’ll clean it up. Where are the towels… bathroom where is the bathroom,” he started panicking again. You helped him up and ran him to the one he was only a few feet away from finding. He sat by the toilet and got rid of the rest of the contents in his stomach. Once he was finished you helped him wash up and rinse out his mouth. “Where is the cleaning closet,” he got back on topic. “No you go get some rest I’ll clean it up,” you assured him. “I love you,” he went for a kiss but you swerved your head to his cheek. “I can’t get sick,” you explained. He just smiled and slouched on his way to the bedroom. You had already gathered all of the cleaning supplies by the time your mom decided you two had been away for too long. “Oh, dear,” she exclaimed looking at you on the floor getting ready to start cleaning it up. “I’ll help,” she tried to stoop down. “No he’s my boyfriend, I’ve got it,” you insisted staring to scoop up the majority of the mess. “It’s no big deal I can help,” she tried. “Yeah you can, let them know Zayn is out of the game,” you gave her a distraction as you scrubbed at her carpet determined to make it good as new.
Liam: “My mom made you some soup,” you told Liam as you entered the room he was relaxing in. You brought the bowl to him and he reached for it grateful. “This is perfect, thanks,” he said as he took his first bite. He was half concentrating on the soup and half on the home videos your mother was kind enough to get out so he could be entertained. “I figured you were not going to want the fish, feeling like you do,” you informed grabbing another blanket and helping him bundle up more. You wrapped it tight around his shoulders tucking it into his armpits. Then you sat next to him. “Thanks, I just can’t seem to get warm,” he said with a disappointed shiver. You wrapped your arms around him trying to give him a little of your own warmth. “I’m sorry,” you said resting your head on his shoulder. “It’s not all that bad,” he said leaning his head on top of yours, “you guys have been amazing. This soup is amazing, your mom didn’t have to make this,” he coughed a few times. “She doesn’t have to take care of me like this.” “She wants to,” you assured him closing your eyes and feeling really comfortable on the couch with him. “She likes to feel needed,” you hummed. You knew that the ladies were probably waiting for you to come back and help with the cooking, but knew that they would understand that you wanted to take care of your man. “Need anything else,” you asked rubbing his shoulder softly. “Nope I’ve got everything I need right here,” he put his hand over your arm letting you know he did not want you to let go. “Okay,” you obliged watching the videotape from the first time you learned how to ride a bike. Liam chuckled a little and even though you were embarrassed you were just happy that he must be feeling a little better.
Niall: You were in the kitchen making the patties with your mom. Once you had a plate full you took them out to the grill. You were confused when you saw your father. “I thought that Niall was going to do the grilling,” you explained your confusion. “He was, but then he had to go to the bathroom.” He took the plate from you placing them on the grill. “That was a half an hour ago though, so I think he might just be skipping out on me,” he joked with a smile as he pushed down on the burgers making them sizzle. “Thanks dad,” you rolled your eyes at his behavior. “Anytime,” he yelled after you. You went to the bathroom in the guest room of your parents’ house, figuring he was doing more than just going to the bathroom for that long. You knocked on the door softly. “Niall,” you asked. “(Y/n),” he asked for clarification. “It’s me,” you assured him and he clicked the door open. “I got sick,” he said and you realized his breath was sour. You somehow managed to smell over the smell that his other end must have produced. “I can tell,” you giggled slightly, opening the window and spraying some air freshener. “Yeah, it was coming out everywhere, but it was kind of like when you get a bad fart. I feel better now,” he joined your good attitude. “I knew that plane food looked sketchy,” you shook your head pouring out the trash can he used to get sick into the toilet and rinsing it out in the shower. You found him some mouthwash and then wandered to find one of your father’s shirts he could borrow. You unbuttoned the one that got some of the splash and pulled the clean one over his head. Good as new. No one will suspect a thing, you inspected him and the bathroom. “Want to go home,” you wanted him to feel comfortable if he was under the weather. “No, I think it’s out of my system, I’m hungry,” he said sure of himself. “Let’s test crackers first,” you insisted amused by his resilience.
